Imposition (DI Gardener 5)

“See if it’ll give me a clue to the state of the marriage.”

“Looks to me like she was more in love with her horses.”

“Precisely.” Of all the photos Gardener had seen, only two of them featured Jane and Robbie together: one upstairs, in which they were both smiling, and the one he now held – no smiling.

Gardener made a mental note. “I wonder how he sees the relationship.”

“Probably not the way she did, from the look of that pic.”

Turning back to the sideboard Gardener leaned further in, noticing circles in the dust on its surface. Yet further evidence that the burglar had been busy on the ground floor of the house.

Steve Fenton, the crime scene manager, entered the room. “We just found this on the stairs.”

“What is it?” Gardener asked, staring at an empty evidence bag.

Reilly smirked. “You should have gone to Specsavers.”

“You need to look really close,” said Fenton. “It’s a hair.”

Reilly leaned forward, squinting at the bag.

“Looks like I’m not the only one whose eyes don’t work,” said Gardener.

“Away with you, man. Can’t you see I’m trying to concentrate?”

“Thought I could smell burning.”

Gardener took the bag from Fenton. The hair was long and black and was almost certainly Jane Carter’s. Forensics would confirm.

“We found it at the top, caught in the skirting board,” said Fenton. “No doubt we’ll get confirmation from those in her hairbrush.”

“Could it be the first sign of a confrontation?” asked Gardener.

“If it is, it started downstairs,” said Reilly.

Gardener studied the four corners of the room – glancing at the motion sensors – still no cameras. “A heated argument, maybe. Got out of hand?”

“Some argument,” said Reilly. “But if that’s what happened no burglar would drag her all the way upstairs.”

“Surely someone would have heard her screams of protest,” suggested Fenton.

“I doubt it,” replied Gardener. “There’s only four houses on the street and they are a bit of a distance from each other.”

“Not to mention the time it was supposed to have happened,” said Reilly.

Gardener sighed. That gave them three separate crime scenes now. The body was scene one. Where the body was found was scene two. And scene three was the burglary. The problems were mounting.

“The best we can hope for is plenty of prints,” said Reilly.

“Good work, Steve. Keep checking,” said Gardener, passing back the evidence bag.

As Fenton made to leave, Gardener called him back. “Have you come across the computer yet?”

Fenton pointed. “In there.”

Gardener noticed a desk in an alcove, with a computer tower and monitor on top. Behind, on the wall, were shelves containing books and DVDs, a number of ornaments, and a couple of the trophies he had presumed were in the photos. “Can you pack the whole thing up now and get one of the lads to take it back to the station immediately?”

Fenton nodded.